


The phonecase

by Saniika



Series: Mario [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Yuri is 18, after end of the series, mari and yuri are the main focus, mario - Freeform, mayuri - Freeform, victuuri is mentioned on the side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/pseuds/Saniika
Summary: Two years later at a New Years party in Hasetsu Yuri has a conversation with Mari over her phonecase. Its a custom one and outdated. Mari doesn't think so, because it has Yurio on it.  A cute one.Translation window:irezumi - forms of traditional Japanese tattooingukiyo-e - woodblock prints (the most famous is Hokusai and his The Great Wave off Kanagawa





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CandyBambi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyBambi/gifts).



> Thank you to CandyBambi for their help with English and tips on writing and research.  
> This is not beta-ed.  
> Can be read as a stand alone, but connects to the second part in the Mario series.

Once again summer caught up with everyone’s life, without further ado or forewarning. Didn’t matter it felt like yesterday it was New Years and Yuri couldn’t wait to finally close it and welcome a new one. That evening at the party was last time he held a flute filled with kid’s champagne. It’s funny, he thought to himself, as he saw Minako and Victor chugging them down, way past the point of being sensible. So overrated. His drink was at least a fun blue color and tasted better. He tried to sneak in a gulp at the last banquet after a competition. Apart from intoxication, he did not see any merit in indulging in drinking. Even though Victor and Yuuri especially made it look as the best thing you could do in your life. Almost appealing. Almost.

He shook his head watching as Yuuri’s dad was painting a face on belly of all too eager Victor. His wife sat by and looked surprisingly accustomed to the display. Did she just fish an eyeliner out of her purse and offer it to her husband? Victor desperately tried to withhold the fidgeting, laughing about being ticklish and Toshiya’s giggling seemed to be fueled by his state. The older man’s hands were shaking, creating very wiggly and pathetic looking lines on the skater’s chest. For some reason, they agreed painting on Victor’s belly was pointless, as it was flat and carried no body fat, which would naturally not produce the desired moving face effect. Toshiya demonstrated even to make a point, Victor agreeing wholeheartedly. He squeezed his pectoral muscles in imitation of Toshiya’s pudgy belly swaying in the air, covered with makeup. 

Minako shouted curses which sounded like, she has no regrets and offered her makeup purse and brushes to Yuuri’s dad, making a point about how expensive the tools are. They were so serious about the whole thing, as if they were in the middle of creating an irezumi or ukiyo-e. 

Yuuko was laughing, not scolding the girls for a change. They had a ball circling around the spectacle, little fiery starts on the orbit, flashing their phones and documenting everything. Yuuri on the other hand was crying and pleading to them to at least not post anything. Futile attempt in its working, another flash flickered from the entrance of the kitchen. His eyes were immediately drawn to the face behind the big phone. Mari, the one of the few sober attendees, smirked at her brother on the ground and swooshes her hand as a conductor would, ending in a grand gesture, her fingertip landing on the screen and sound from the device chirping. Definitely posting something. Pitchit would be proud of her. 

“Too late! HA!” she shouted and jumped away from lunging Yuuri. His pathetic wailing did not outshout the laughter in the banquet room, though it was a decent attempt, Yuri had to give him that. Yuuri made the best “Nooooooo!” noises. Right after “Paaaain and sufferinggggg.” He learned to do that after moving in with Victor during the busiest period two years ago, wailing the sentence around the corners of the premises, and fading as he disappeared behind the corners and out of sight. Yuri enjoyed those days a lot. 

Both Victor and Yuuri were working harder than ever and were so tired or focused he did not even need to torture them into submission. Yakov disciplined Victor, Victor disciplined Yuuri with the last shreds of strength, which did not give him stamina to banter Yuri. Yuuri spent tipped over from the bench even after gentle nudge. Yuri tested it often and was pleased to see he did not need to kick so hard. It was perfect. Best years of his life. A little sad too, but better than before. Yes.

He raised his glass in silent salute to Mari. She locked his gaze, scrunched her nose in laughter. She flailed her phone high above her head, but was being pulled down by weight of his brother. Eventually pushing him off with the other hand and escaping from his clutches. Her giggling was drowning in the cacophony of the people littered room. The newly formed duo consisting of Victor and Toshiya started the performance of the night, imitating hula hooping dance. The girls were completely wild, the women around dying from laughing fits on the ground, rolling and holding their middle. 

Clearly, Yuri did not see the appeal in drinking. And yet, he found himself in these bizarre situations, Victor and Yuuri sweeping him and his life from under his feet. The fall brought a rushing vertigo feeling into his head, but his body never seemed to fall hard on the ground. Dizzy and strange sensation. One he was still not sure if he gotten used to. There was a lot more now, than just anger and frustration present. A lot better place he was at now.

A small, a barely there, smile was creeping on his face, his eyes following Mari’s movements. He nursed his blue vivid drink and tensed a little in surprise, when she hesitated and then walked to his side aiming to the corner of the room, where he reclined for the last part of the evening, trying to find some solace. He cleared his throat, even if he didn’t need to and winced at catching himself in the act. 

“Hi! Wanna see?” Mari leaned on the wall beside him and raised her phone in an offer. It had a big screen and was clothed protectively in shiny colorful case. He forgot to swallow and coughed at the sight of the pattern. It was his chibi face with cat headband, scattered all over it. Fuck. He thought the internet forgot about that one years ago. Where did she get that stuff? Not even his diehard fangirls from Yuri’s angels did not have that. He knew that, because he checked meticulously all the merch they made of him. He stared at her frozen for a moment, bewilderment spread over his facade.

He was not sure how he felt about it. Two years ago he was ready to tell her flat out, he was interested in her, she charmed him with her attitude. She was acting normal around him, not getting on his nerves and well, she was completely different from any woman around him. Yet, sometimes he forgot she was a Japanese and a fangirl. She adored his cherub look just like any other girl. It was part of the marketing, which he reluctantly suffered through, knowing it was important for his career. Part of discovering his interested in romantic and physical sphere, was noticing her as a woman. But two years later, him being eighteen, fucking eighteen, she carried a phone-case everyday with this “thing” on it. It was so weird.  
It was like a switch, she was able to flip between a normal decent human being and a fan. During competitions she cheered a lot, but in general supported all of their skater friends, so it was not like she targeted specifically him. He was somewhat insulted and flattered at the same time. After two years though, he was irritated she saw him as… Well how did she saw him really?

His thoughts carried themselves over his hardening features, frown bent his eyebrows and his lips pressed in a thin line. She blinked a few times, a radiant flush bloomed over her cheeks and she stuttered in embarrassment.

“I, uhm… I. Ah. Is it the phone case?” She carefully tried, lowering her gaze and hid the offending item in her pocket.

“You know I am eighteen already, right?” His fingers pressed hard on the walls of the glass, the hot anger, so familiar, bubbled in his chest. He set it down on the low table and crossed his legs, fingers tipping impatiently at the metal clasp of his hanging belt buckle.

“Uh. Yes. Well, I gotten the case three year ago? Yeah, three years.” Her voice sounded surer, as she gathered herself from the initial amazement of his reaction. It still carried uncertainty, sensing the signals of his growing irrigation. 

He couldn’t help it. He was angry and needed some answers. It was hard to act around people, when you had such a short fuse. He tried, especially in later years, he really did. Especially around her, he wanted to be composed. Usually she achieved to calm him natural without knowing anyway. But seeing that phone case let him calm mood fly like a rocket through the roof. It pissed him of so much, he couldn’t help but start to see red. He got jolted out of his thought, her hip bumping in his side playful tone from her lips and blush adoring his face still.

“Awh, common. It’s nothing. And you looked really cute like that. I had it made just like those special cheering fans. I paid a lot of money for it too!”

Cute. So, that’s all there was to him in her eyes. The anger halted in his throat and he swallowed. Somehow the tension going all away, the teenage rage washing away and bringing a bittersweet tide with it. She was watching his features, having all her attention focused on him. For a change. Finally, no one butting in, no Minako spying as hungry shark now that Yuuri got settled for the future and she needed to hound protectively someone else. Everyone was involved in the hula dance and Mari was here beside him, again open and watching.

“I’ll get you a new one. It’s really outdated.” He said quietly, stroking his belt between his fingertips and turned away heading to the veranda and fishing for cigarette pack in his pocket.

Mari followed him, stepping out threw a last glance into the room, where the party was in full bloom and slid the door, shutting them of from the commotion.

“Eeh? Why? It’s in perfect condition. And you look cute on it!” She was honestly surprised and frowned, her phone again out and gesturing it towards him to prove the point. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This took more effort than quads and in a way was more intimidating than Yakov’s yelling. Not that he ever was intimidated by his coach. Now or never. He’s taking what he earns for. No regrets.

Yuri took her phone and laid it on the railing slowly, never letting go of her hand in the process. She was almost his height, his grow spurt stretched him over the years causing a lot of trouble with his balance. She stayed the same, just her hair had less bleached streaks. Her features were gentle and she was searching for some answer from him, puzzled by his actions. Caught off guard, she did not retreat from his intimate touch and so he advanced to her, caressing her wrist and forearm.

“I… I don’t want you to think of me as cute.” He said and took her other wrist in his hand, looking at them in effort to give her time to catch on what he was saying. He hoped he was clear enough.

“Why?” Her voice seeped from obliviousness, yet she did not pull away still. He looked up, her brows furrowed in confusion and uncertainty settled in her frame. Yuri stared as she spoke, watching her lips move and heard the words she spoke. Both as if from two separate dimensions. It was funny, really. She honestly did not have a clue. And he had to put it more blatantly to her for realize. Well, nothing could be simpler than that.

There was no need for composure, he did not need it. In her presence it was rattled away, when he was fifteen. Now he was older and more determined than ever. He was not the frail boy anymore and could see Victor in his eye easily. He did not know yet how to handle people, but thankfully this was a chance he did not intent to screw up. He pulled slowly and brought her closer, seeing she was taking him in, the grown man, whose posture almost towered over hers, strength in his limbs replacing the gentle androgynous frame.

“I don’t want you to see me as cute. Not anymore.” His voice carried itself through air in lower tone and he was surprised it had a bit ragged edges. She hesitated, still confused glancing at him, their joined hands and back at him. The frown deeper settled on her forehead radiating frustration. He exhaled in frustration and stepped even closer, pressing gently into her personal space. Not insistent, but firm and clear. He had to be really obvious it seemed.

“Yurio, I don’t understand…” Mari exclaimed.

He felt smile spreading on his face and it felt strangely giddy. Ok, then. He took her hand and laid it on his chest and cupped her cheek with the other, caressing the skin with fingers in gentle strokes. Her eyes widened a little, bringing her closer to the realization, leaving it up to him to give her the final nudge.

“Yuri. It’s, Yuri.” He whispered and let his thumb brush right under the edge of her lower lip. The other thumb caressing her hand in soft pacifying manner. For xth time he swallowed again and spoke with strong unwavering voice as he tipped her chin forward, closer to his face.

“Mari. I like you.” And one, two and tree second after, his lips touched hers. Gently at the corner and then he waited, for her to react. She quivered a little, like a small leaf in wind, making his heart fill with melting warmth and sending shivers over his spine, behind his ears. She inhaled and her mouth parted slightly. Finally, oh so finally, he made a point. His lips pressed on her firmly, completely over their shape, no chaste uncertain misguided peck. And her body relaxed to his touch, leaning in, heat transmitting through their clothes and flushing their faces.

It was over quickly, daze in her eyes still lingering in her pupils and over her quivering lips. They took a breath, Yuri pressing his forehead to hers and he waited, with his hand still clutching hers, wanting so much to hold her close and more. Yet, he waited and hoped, she would accept. What? Him, yes. He wanted her to accept this. There was no surprise on her face anymore and she was quiet for a minute. It was the longest one in his life he thought to himself as patiently scanned her face.

“Yuri.” She spoke quietly, looking in front of herself on his jacket with Russia spelled across it, as if it was the most interesting word to her. Yuri didn’t want to wait anymore, he hated waiting for anything his whole life. Yet, he waited, because he had to and because it was for her.

She looked at him warily, lips shiny, but closed. And then her fingers spread over his chest under his sweating palm. A smile conjured from her mouth, like the most mesmerizing trick he ever seen. Infectious, making him smile in return.

“Yuri, it is then.”

Yuri knew he was grinning, flush on his cheeks growing like a vine, mirroring hers. He felt as he was about to evaporate or fly away, so he held her hands firmly to give himself ground under the feet. Mari was his anchor. Now he could count on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I recommend to read Candybambi's work: http://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyBambi


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